


A Companion in Solitude

by alwaysgus



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-27
Updated: 2011-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysgus/pseuds/alwaysgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon, the Ponds need a holiday from the lying, leaving the Doctor alone in his solitude. Until the TARDIS recruits some help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He sat on the floor of the awkwardly swaying TARDIS, legs akimbo and arms folded across his chest. Any mother of a young child would immediately recognize the signs: The Doctor was pouting. He knew it was senseless, considering an effective pout required an audience. Something of which he had not. Hence, the pout. Nonetheless, he soldiered on in his reserve to make it clear to all the nobodies who were pointedly not there that he was thoroughly upset about it. So, he pouted.

It had been days since he had watched the backs of his companions walk out of the TARDIS door, and it would be days yet before he would see the front of them come back through it. Though his gangly arms and legs may have been relatively new, his distinguished older brain knew that it was not common for companions to pack a bag for a trip beyond the TARDIS. He regathered all the available information and replayed it in his head once again.

"Alright then. 2011, it is. Come on, Captain Doctor!" Amy commanded as bags tumbled from her arms to the TARDIS floor. "Can't you make this ship sail any faster?" More bags fell, as did Rory, when he joined them at the console. Neither Amy nor the Doctor seemed to notice the young man sprawled across the luggage.

The Doctor was properly irritated. Hours after their pirate adventure, she announced that she and her husband needed a holiday away from the chaos. When the Doctor offered her galaxies of possibilities, she explained, "No, Doctor. We need a holiday away from the galaxies of possibilities."

He looked at her in that way he only looked at humans…dumbfounded. "Yeah, I don't think I quite understand….."

"Doctor, do you know how awkward it is to…" Amy searched for the right words, but there seemed to be no other way to explain it other than to say it exactly as it was. "We need to have sex away from Big Brother."

"So much for breaking it to him gently," Rory mumbled, more as a reminder to them that he was still there.

A few hours later and before Amy could expound further on the need for messy nakedness, the Doctor began frantically working his ship to get them where they needed to be. He threw switches and pressed knobs that he hadn't even known existed in the hopes that the TARDIS would sense the urgency. He was afraid that Amy may try to explain to him, once again, the nature of the birds and the bees. He was over 900 years old, for fuck's sake. The TARDIS wasn't the only time traveling being in the universe with a knob. Although, her knobs got considerably more attention than did his.

A thought ran through his mind like lightening, but, though clever as he was, he wasn't quick enough to grab hold of it before it was gone. The TARDIS jerked unexpectedly. "Ok, maybe the wrong knob. Sorry. Won't happen again…."

"What was that?" Amy asked. He turned to look at the couple. It appeared that Amy was trying to instruct Rory on the most efficient way to stack together their luggage for a quick getaway.

The Doctor shook his head and waved away her question as the ship came to an abrupt halt, causing Rory to lose his balance once again and scatter the luggage from its perfectly positioned tower. "Oh, bollocks…really?" He yelled at no one and everyone at once, uncharacteristically on edge. And, if the Doctor had not been so preoccupied with his own self-pity, he might have noticed that the anxiousness of Rory and the urgency to leave had little to do with private shagging.

In fact, if the Doctor had not had a secret of his own so fastened upon his mind, he may have perceived that his companions had a secret as well. And it would have taken very little convincing from the Doctor for Amy to dispel with her hush-hushed matter. Hence, the need for the Ponds to make haste from the TARDIS. Though bigger on the inside, secrets crowded up the space so that the three friends always seemed to be squeezing through tiny hallways together, each afraid that those things unspoken could be absorbed as easily as through a simple touch.

"Well, here we are then. Off you go. To do your holiday business," he said and then murmured, "…handle your marriage nonsense…."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Amy walked over and placed both hands upon his shoulders. "You'll be fine. Now, visit your friends, crash a war, dance like you've never danced before." She smiled and cautiously gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Even for a Time Lord, life is short, Doctor. Live a little more and save a little less, for once." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. There was a worry in her face that he couldn't quite place. But then again, his companions always seemed to be worried about him.

"Go on, you two. I'm double parked," he grumbled.

"We'll be back before you know it. Two weeks. Try to stay out of trouble, yeah?" With that, the last of the bags disappeared out the door, along with his two best friends in the world. The TARDIS was bigger on the inside once again.

That was eight days ago. He had resisted the urge to return to 2011 and feign ignorance that he was early. It would be easy enough to blame the TARDIS. She hadn't quite gotten her sea legs since her revamp. Though truth be told (and he'd never admit it), sometimes he thought that she was flying him.

"There has to be more to the holiday story than just shagging. It has never been a problem before," he said aloud. "Shagging. What complicated nonsense." It had been awhile, but he didn't remember anything remarkable about it. Not altogether unpleasant, but definitely nothing for which to leave a spectacular adventure-seeking mate such as himself.

So, there had to be another reason for the quick exodus other than time alone to do some very human wrong-sided business, but he was too steeped in self-pity to bother with further pontification.

So, there he sat…on the floor of his faithful ship…. …as they sailed rather aimlessly through time and space…humming a tune Amy was fond of playing loudly during travel. No place to be, no one to impress. Just him in his solitary confinement and the whirring of his truest friend.

So mired was he in his gloom, he didn't even respond to the flash of white-blue light accompanied by the sound of thunder, the tell-tale signs of a vortex manipulator in use.

"A great and wise man once said, 'I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.'"

"True and rather brilliant, though I don't recall saying it. Or have I not yet said it?" he asked the intruder, back to her, arms still folded and legs still akimbo, eyes staring downward.

"You don't say it at all, my love. 19th century Earth, Henry David Thoreau."

"Well, it certainly sounds like something I'd say. Perhaps I visit him someday," the Doctor whispered, adding as quietly, "Hello, River."

"Hello, Sweetie…."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what's the emergency?" River asked as she walked over to him. "Where are Amy and Rory?"

"There's no emergency. What emergency? I laugh in the face of emergencies," he replied with very little enthusiasm, adding "I am emergencies' worst nightmare. I have a fantastic screwdriver. "

"I got a call from the TARDIS, but there was only the sound of the brakes on the other end of the call. Then, nothing." River knelt down so that she was eye-level with him, only his eyes were still cast downward. "Doctor? Why are you on the floor? Where is Amy?"

"Gone."

"Gone? Gone where? Rory, too?" Her breathing quickened.

"They're both gone."

The look of despair in his face was undeniable. Panic began to bubble up in River's gut. Her mind began to race with strategy and vengeance, but she knew that anxiety would get her nowhere with this man. She lifted his chin so that his eyes met hers and calmly probed for more information. "Doctor, listen to me. We can figure this out together. Where were you? Who took them? How long ago?"

They both looked at each other for a moment. River seeking out the story from her Doctor, the Doctor looking blankly into the face of his whoever-she-was. Her touch was tender and her voice soothing, both beginning to fill the void left by his friends. However, the disconnect set in as he realized they were traveling down separate paths of concern.

He finally broke the silence as confusion set further in. "What are you going on about? They're on 21st century Earth, doing the married thing," he spit out. "Mind you, without me. Because it can't be done while I'm in the vicinity. Even if that vicinity is more like a neighborhood….." He now looked less in despair and more in bewilderment.

"So, they're fine?" River rose to her feet and peered down at the sulking infant. "Amy and Rory are back in their time for a holiday of sorts? And all this…." She waved her arms about him, "…is about you pouting and feeling sorry for yourself, because your companions needed some time to enjoy their marriage?" Her tone of voice had risen an octave or two.

He looked sheepishly up at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, when you put it that way….."

River lowered her head and exhaled the anxiety that had been building in her body, standing still for a few moments, waiting for the urge to strike out at him to pass.

The Doctor stood up and stretched. Damn. This body may have been young in its journey, but it still wasn't meant for long periods of squatting on the floor. He bent backward to give his back some relief and saw her walk off from him, mumbling as she went.

"Incredible. Fucking incredible…." He heard her say, rather disgusted. He straightened to full height, only to be met with a smack to the back of his head. "What in the hell!"

"Oh, shut up!" She snapped as she began piloting the TARDIS.

"Where are we going?" he asked, turning around to see an enraged woman with her hands all over his TARDIS. Why did she always just swagger up to the console and take over the captaining of his little blue box. "River, what are you doing?"

"I got a call from this ship, and I want to know why," she replied as she pushed buttons and typed commands, searching the scanner for an acceptable answer. Minutes passed without success.

But the Doctor knew why that call had gone out. Though certainly not his intention, his overall sadness and lonesomeness had prompted the TARDIS to reach out to someone who would respond quickly and without question. And since two-thirds of those people were unavailable, River got the call. But he would definitely not be telling this to the anger ball of personal justice standing in front of him. His head still smarted from the thwap he'd received minutes ago.

She traveled around the console, pulling on handles and twisting dials, looking for her answer. He could tell that her anger was dissipating as she concentrated on the task at hand. She couldn't stay mad at him for long…surely. Whatever there was in his future and her past, it was sturdy enough to withstand a minor upset such as this. He was almost positive she wouldn't hit him again.

Regardless, he backed up a step or two and leaned against the railing, watching her move. It was then that he noticed her clothing.

"What are you wearing?"

She turned around and glared at him before continuing her work.

"Seriously. Is there supposed to be more to it? You look a bit...unfinished." Her hair had been swept up and was immaculately messy, and her face glowed under perfectly applied colors. A delicate pendant of the greenest blue hung around her neck and rested exactly where the eyes of men would appreciate it. Her skin glistened under a sleeveless and backless top of blue satin, and a few loose curls of hair swung between her shoulder blades. Paired with all of this refinement were bare feet and joggers.

Now on the side of the console facing him, she lifted her eyes and met his. "I was in the middle of getting dressed for dinner when the guard handed me the phone. This was as far as I got," she answered through clenched teeth. She then brought her hand forcefully down on the complicated navigation system and swore. "Fuck it. It's no use." She was exhausted and exasperated.

And exquisite. She was beautiful. Not that he hadn't noticed before, but those were always times of hurrying and scurrying for safety and answers. An angel here, a shadow there. Hardly the forum to really take notice of this woman with whom he is supposed to…..well, to what, he wasn't exactly sure. But he was beginning to look forward to making those discoveries sooner rather than later.

"Those must be quite some dinners they host in prison," he quipped, hoping to dissolve some of the tension and anger she was carrying in her shoulders. The ones not covered by clothing.

"Spoilers."

"Ahhhh…." It was then he realized the true root of her anger. The TARDIS had pulled her away from a date with him, in order to be with him. And if she was going to such trouble to dress in such a spectacular way, she must have been meeting a much friendlier Doctor.

He was suddenly and ridiculously jealous of himself. Now, this was an unexpected development, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with this realization.

So, he hummed awkwardly and fiddled in his pants pockets, feeling more human than was comfortable.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are we taking the scenic route?" he asked, still having not been told where he was going.

"What?" she furiously maneuvered around the console.

"To where we're going? You still haven't answered, and it appears that you've given up on why you're here in the first place,"

"I'M TRYING TO GET BACK TO WHERE I WAS BEFORE I WAS CALLED HERE!" she yelled, turning around to face him.

"Why don't you just vortex manipulate yourself back to your stormcage?" He was becoming increasing put off by the fact that his present self was apparently somehow less-than whichever self to whom she was trying frantically to return.

"It's hell on the hair."

He let out a giggle. "You seemed to make it through rather fantastically the first time." He managed to get a smile from his volatile visitor.

"Look," she began, the rage having drained from her face and replaced with frustration. "I'm relieved to find that the only casualty aboard the TARDIS is your audience, but seriously, Sweetie, I just want to get back. It's rather important."

"To get back to another me….." he replied quietly.

"To get back." She focused her attention back to the console. "I don't understand what the problem is."

He pushed off the railing with his arms and started towards her. "Here, let me help."

It was her turn to laugh. "You are more capable than me in various ways, honey, but flying the TARDIS is not one of them."

Slighted, he returned to his perch and continued to hum and watch, thumbs hooked under his braces.

After some banging, more swearing and a considerable amount of time had passed, her arms fell to her side. "I give up. You broke her. And what in the name of sanity are you humming?"

"Oh, some ditty that Amy likes to blare through time and space…."

"So, you guys have been to the American 1960's, yeah?"

He was unsure of how to answer. "Uh? Spoilers?"

"Oh, we've been to the American 1960's," she said. "Business or pleasure?"

"Business, of course. And that's all I can say, Dr. Song," he winked.

"Someday, Doctor, it won't always be about business." She had a sly smile on her face, and he felt redness creep up into his. She walked over to the railing where he stood and leaned over, propping her elbows and staring off into the opposite direction.

"Why do you ask, anyway?" he said.

"About?"

"The 1960s."

"Oh, because of the song," she answered.

"That's not the 1960s. It's an Amy Pond song," he said.

"Well, yes, I suppose it could be. Amy would have heard it in the 21st century. Rather popular make-out song," she returned the wink. "But definitely the 1960s."

The Doctor strode over to the console and scanned through the files. "Ah ha!" He pushed several buttons, and the song began to play over the sound of the flying ship. "American 21st century. Band is...umm... She & Him." He walked back over to the railing, facing away from her, smugness dripping from the corners of his smile.

River lowered her head and chuckled. "You Really Got a Hold on Me. Smokey Robinson and the Miracles…." She said aloud, looking over at the Doctor and meeting his eyes. "…1962." With a snap of her fingers, the original song began with a slow and enticing rhythm. One eyebrow shot up as she maintained her eye contact.

"How….." he stammered.

"Learned from the best, remember?"

He laughed a guttural sound and leaned in closely to her ear. "Not nearly well enough to take her off auto-pilot." He saw a slight shiver go through her as his breath danced in her ear. An awkward feeling started to rise up in his belly.

The song continued to play as she shook her head and grinned. "Well, I guess not. So, that's why nothing I did seemed to work, yeah?" Her voice was almost too soft and relaxed to hear over the song and the ship. "Guess only she knows where we're headed," River replied as she slid her hand along the railing, as if to pet the TARDIS.

The TARDIS seemed to sway through space in beat with the music. The slow rhythm of the song mixed with the smell of River's hair had put him in a most unusual mood. He ran the back of hand lightly down her bare arm, and though her body showed little reaction, her eyes spoke volumes.

"You know, before Amy left, she made three suggestions," he said.

"Is that so?" She was almost glowing.

"Um hmm." The Doctor blinked heavily to adjust his eyes, but it made no difference – her face had relaxed and was gleaming.

"And what advice did Ms. Pond have for you, Doctor?" She turned her head sideways to look at him, but he continued facing forward, realizing that he may not be equipped to handle where he had intended to lead. But he refused to back down now.

"Well, she said to visit with a friend," he said, motioning to her.

"Which I guess I could be….." she replied.

"And to crash a war…."

"Which I suppose we had earlier….." she answered with a laugh.

He pushed off from the railing and walked behind her. She straightened up and turned to see him holding out his hand to her. "And to dance like I've never danced before." He snapped his fingers, and the song started itself over. "And I've never slow danced before, Dr. Song."

"Oh but you will, my love," she replied as she took his hand and walked closer to him. "And here is where you learn."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you really want to set the mood, I suggest looking up the song and listening along :)

The Doctor held out his arms as if to waltz, causing River to chuckle. She took hold of his hands and stepped inside the arm box he was holding out.

"No, Sweetie. We're not entering a ballroom contest." She placed his hands on her lower back. "They go here. "

Their bodies were now close together – uncomfortably close, the Doctor thought – and the tip ends of his fingers rested on her naked skin. "No no, I've seen this done before. I was absolutely right the first time. Whoever taught you this way was just trying to…uhh…to…umm…"

"You did." She brought her arms up to his shoulders and rested her hands behind his neck.

"Right then. Off we go…" he replied quickly and nervously, his legs suddenly like pudding.

They began to sway, rather awkwardly at first. He would get ahead of her, and many times it seemed as if they were dancing in opposite directions. He'd double-step to get back in synch, and then he felt like he was tap dancing. His arms were like stone, keeping his hands planted firmly where River has placed them. She might as well have been dancing with a cardboard cut-out of him. The unusual mood that had led him to initiate this dance had faded, and it had now become a task….something to get through. His arms had begun to tremble from the statuesque position in which he held River. How long is this blasted song, he thought. Time had never moved so slowly. This he knew for a fact. He was a Time Lord. They were right now in the midst of someone's evil plan, and time was being manipulated. That was the only answer.

"Ok, Doctor," River said. She had dropped her hands from around his neck and was trying to take a step back from his rigid grip. She forced herself backward, and the Doctor's arms fell to his side in relief. "To say that was painful would be an understatement." She exhaled a sigh of disappointment.

"Yeah, sorry about your feet," he answered. Painful, indeed. His arms hurt to bend, and he tried to work out the soreness. "Tricky things, feet."

"No, Honey. I meant, mentally, emotionally painful. It was like moving a Cyberman around in a circle," she joked.

The Doctor winced at the comparison. "Well, we are DOING IT WRONG. I am sure I could wipe the floor with a Cyberman if we were doing correctly," he growled. "I'm just saying."

She walked toward him. "You are wonderful at this…eventually. Let's give it another go."

The Doctor was standing there with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. "No, the mood has passed. It was, no doubt, a future me that taught you this…this…."

"Oh, no. Don't start your pouting again," she warned. "If you don't work it out now, then any future you will fall apart as well. Might as well fix you now."

"Hey…" He dropped his arms and looked at her like a child who'd been told a truth he'd rather not have known.

"Seriously, quit pouting. It's not attractive," she chastised. "Now, listen to me and watch how I move."

She was close again. If he were to have lowered his head, he could smell her hair. She grabbed his arms. "These things are a mess. Don't grip me like I'm hanging from you for dear life." She waved them up and down and side to side. "Loosen 'em up. All that flailing you do for no reason needs to work for you." She put his hands on her lower back again. "Let your arms rest along my side."

He relaxed as best he could as she stood so close. "That's better. Now, for these sticks that hold up you upright. In the middle, they bend. It's novel. Try it."

"Cute."

"Oh, honey, if you only knew," she looked up at him without moving her head. A blush crept up into his face, and she winked. "Instead of rocking from one leg to the next, just imagine if you walked sideways instead of forward. Just smooth movements." Her voice was softer and lower and not entirely unpleasant.

He was feeling less tense, and the swaying felt more natural. "Like this?"

"Oh, much better."

"I feel really stupid."

"Let's just start the song over and see what you got, yeah?" she suggested. But before either of them could snap for restart, the song began to play from the beginning. They both looked over at the console, then each other, and laughed.

"The TARDIS has spoken," he said as River stepped even closer, once again snaking her arms around him.

He began to listen to and feel the slow rhythm of the music as they moved. His fingers lay softly at the base of her back, and he started tracing small circles with his thumbs along the satin fabric. She responded similarly by running her fingers through his hair along his neck line. She relaxed into him, and their bodies were pressed closer together than he thought was even possible, causing sensations to travel to places to which he rarely gave a second thought.

RIver began to sing along with the music, and he could feel the vibrations in her chest dance along his own.

"I don't like you, but I love you. Seems that I'm always thinking of you. Though you treat me badly, I love you madly…you've really got a hold on me…."

The Doctor felt not at all like himself. As River sang, his hands found the bare skin of her back, where clothes should have been. He let the fingertips of one hand trail down from her neck to the small of her back and back up. He could hear the smile in her voice as she sang. He was doing something right, he was quite sure of it. His confidence was building with each passing note. He liked this. He would take this any day over jammie dodgers.

He slid his hands up her bare arms and unclasped her hands from around his neck. She looked up at him with a moment of disappointment until she felt him turn her around and wrap their arms around her middle. She rested her head against his chest and swayed with him. She could barely stand to be in her own skin when she heard a sound in her ear, much like singing.

"I don't want you, but I need you. Don't wanna kiss you, but I need to. Though you do me wrong now, my love is strong now…you've really got a hold on me….I love you and all I want you to do is just hold me...hold me….."

His thumbs had been drawing circles over her hands as he held her tight against him. She felt lips on her bare shoulder, and a breath caught in her throat. Then, kisses on her neck. A small groan escaped from deep within her…the same depths where a heat was beginning to boil. She took a slow breath, and as she exhaled, he untangled one of his hands from hers and began to lightly stroke the skin of her exposed chest with the backs of his fingers. He continued to place feathered kisses along her neck and shoulder.

She ran her hands down the sides of his legs where they rested as they moved with the music. The hand not drawing maps on her chest found its way slightly under her top to the bare skin of her stomach. She clinched the fabric of his pants tight in her hands. She needed to feel more of him and tuned around slowly, letting her body drag across his in all the pleasant ways.

"Tighter…."

River's heart smiled at the appropriately placed lyric. She ran her hands up his back and tried to pull him closer. Her forehead dug into his chest as he removed the clip from her hair and ran his fingers through it gently as it tumbled over her shoulders. Her breathing sped up, and she instinctively drug her nails down his back. She heard a shallow gasp and felt a slight tug in her hair.

"Tighter…"

His hands began to roam and found themselves tracing an invisible line up her sides and down her hips with some pressure. She sidestepped so that his leg was between hers. He felt a sudden jolt through his body. Life was stirring in places he thought time had forgotten. She pressed herself closer to him to relieve the ache and throbbing but found that it only made it worse.

"I wanna leave you, don't wanna stay here. Don't wanna spend another day here. Though I wanna split now, I can't quit now….you've really got a hold on me…"

He bent his body forward, causing hers to arch back. She let her head follow the motion, and he placed kisses at the base of her throat, teeth occasionally scraping the skin. She felt like every nerve ending was clawing at her skin to get out. He trailed the kisses up, following her jawline to her ear and whispered, "I think I like slow dancing, Dr. Song."

She made a low sound that was a mixture of laugh and groan. "I'd say you're doing okay."

When she felt his tongue graze her ear lobe, she grabbed the sides of his head with an urgent force and brought his lips to hers. His mouth moved with purpose across her lips. She ran the tip of her tongue across his top lip, eliciting a groan. When their tongues touched, a spark ignited in his gut and shot straight into his groin. As they each wrestled for control of the kiss, his hands ran down her back and over the rounded flesh inside her joggers, pressing her closer to him. She broke the kiss and buried her face in his neck, her breathing quick and shallow. She could feel his reaction pressing into her leg.

"…I love you and all I want you to do is just hold me…hold me…hold me…."

He was far too clothed. She pulled at his bowtie and slid it from around his neck in one swift movement. As she undid each button of his shirt, she placed a kiss on the skin revealed above it. He buried his hands in her hair again and began an almost unnoticeable grinding motion against her. "River…."

She had him unbuttoned and slowly pulled his shirt tail from his pants. She placed a kiss below his navel at the top of his pants and ran her hands up the insides of his thighs as she stood, stopping just short of comfort. He thought his legs would buckle if he didn't somehow brace himself against something.

He pulled her with him as he backed up against the railing. "Where is this going, Doctor?"

"I thought it was quite obvious," he answered, reaching up to untie the blouse at the base of her neck.

She reached back and clasped his hand in hers, dropping them to hang at their sides. "It's too early."

His eyed widened. "Pardon me?"

When she raised her eyes to look into his, he could see tears welling. His belly twisted into a knot. He didn't like the sudden turn of events. "It's too early for you, Sweetie. You don't know who I am yet."

He stroked her hair with his free hand and smiled. "I know exactly what I need to know. You're River Song. You're beautiful, brilliant, and my god, you're sexy, and I'm falling….."

There was the unmistakable flash of the vortex manipulator, and the force threw him over the rail, landing with a thud onto the steps below.

And when the smoke cleared, so had River.


	5. Chapter 5

The Short guard looked at his watch while leaning against the wall of the corridor. He had tried whistling, but it only made him lonely and more uneasy. At about the time he had decided to check on his comrade, he heard the quick footsteps of the Fat guard around the bend. He let out a sigh of relief. He'd heard about the happenings at the end of the hall, and he wasn't about to try his luck.

"So, what was the trouble? What was she going on about?" he questioned as the Fat guard approached. The man was red-faced and bit short of breath. "Did she get you? I heard she's a tricky one."

"A pen," was all he managed to say before he had to pause to breathe. It was almost as if he had been chased down the corridor.

"A pen?"

"Yes." The Fat one took a final deep breath and reached in his pocket for a cigarette. He had been trying to quit, but a trip down the hall certainly warranted a cig.

"Like a writing utensil?"

The Fat one stopped mid-puff and stared at the Short one. "Yes, a pen! An object with which to write. Like a pencil, but not. I can use it in a sentence if you'd like!"

"No need to get cross. You could have meant p-i-n. Like a fastening pin…or a broach. Something fancy, maybe with jewels….."

"Oh, bloody hell, would you just shut up!" he shouted to the curious guard, then mumbling. "It's not enough I have to deal with the prisoner, but I have to work with a fucking In-Betweener, too? And not even the smart one…."

"What was that?" the Short one asked.

"Nothing…" The Fat one dropped his cigarette to the ground and screwed it into the floor with the toe of his boot. "Listen, she's in a right mood, that one. I say we leave her alone until breakfast. Let's grab some food and watch come classic shows on the telly. I heard about this one where a man flies through space in a phone booth. Can you believe that?"

The two men began walking back to their post. "I heard it was police box," the Short one replied. "And that he really exists."

"No, it was definitely a phone booth, and you'd have to be rather daft to believe a man could live in a booth of any kind, really. Where does he piss?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's bigger on the inside," the Short one reasoned. "Hey , you think we should take her a pen?"

"I'm not taking her a pen!" the Fat one snarled. "You take her a pen."

The Short one stopped. His curiosity had a tendency to get the better of him, and more often than not, led him down a path to trouble. He did have a pen to spare, right there in his pocket.

The Fat one saw him contemplate his options and felt the need to intervene. "You ever wonder about the guy who had your job before you? Yeah, well, he went down there to take a letter."

The Short one put one foot in front of the other and kept that pace beside the Fat one until they were clear of the containment cells altogether.

As the guards made their way back to their post, crashing noises and swearing could be heard throughout the corridor from the very end of the row of cells. The guard had walked up on a dangerous scene - that much was undeniable. One good thing about having a containment facility to oneself is that one could make all the noise one wanted and not have to explain talking to oneself. And River was making a helluva racket and talking plenty enough.

The bed was disassembled, and the linens thrown about from corner to corner. There were clothes scattered on the floor and across the sparse furniture. A bookshelf was turned over, and a collection of small boxes had been emptied of their contents in a heap on the floor. She stepped around and over the mess to the desk near the far wall, careful not to step on any of the trinkets she had collected from her travels.

"I can track a gangly man in a tiny blue box through the universe, but I am completely unable to locate a sodding pen!" River exclaimed as she rummaged through the few items in her desk drawers. Tears were making it difficult to see, but she was on a mission. She had to record the latest events in her diary while they were fresh in her mind. The task would be difficult enough as it was, with the feeling and taste of him on her lips still. The sound of the TARDIS was even still ringing through her ears…and seemingly getting louder. She looked into the corridor to see the blue box materialize.

The door flew open, and the Doctor rushed out as if shot from a cannon. He was disheveled and more awkward than usual. He looked around, flailed his arms about, spun quickly and shot back through the door, growling as he went. "Oh, bloody hell!" And the TARDIS squealed from sight.

River stood there, staring into the hall, wondering if she had somehow conjured up the odd vision of the man who continued to cause her such gut-wrenching emotion. If for no other reason, she hated him for making her cry. Crying was for girls…and guards.

She twirled suddenly as the TARDIS noise seemed even louder than before. It came into focus less than two feet in front her, and its pilot ran out before it had even stopped screeching. River - not expecting such an explosive exit - and the Doctor – forgetting he had landed in a tiny containment cell – collided when he bounded through the door. They both lay sprawled amid the mess on the floor. River was buried under arms and knees. His head was draped over her shoulder and rested on the floor. He lay so still, River half-expected him to regenerate on top of her. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, I couldn't be better, me. Wait, what am I doing. Just…umm...doing a little traveling. Catching up on some unfinished business. You know….Time Lordy things…ends all loose and what-not." The Doctor continued to lay there. He'd begun to think he'd knocked himself a little unconscious when he hit his head on the TARDIS door as he ran out. Or maybe he'd hit it on the floor when they fell. Probably couldn't be pinpointed. "How are you?"

"Same ole, same ole. Blanketed by a tall, lean Time Lord on the floor of my cell. Almost run over by spaceship. You know…just another day at the stormcage."

"You should get out more often."

"That's what I keep telling them."

"Well, you keep at it. If anyone can break prison tradition, it's you...yes, indeed."

They continued to lay on the floor, neither moving.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, River?"

"Are we taking cover, or is it safe to get up now?"

"Well, you can never really tell, can you? Safety, I mean. I suppose I could have done an environment check before I left the TARDIS…" he mumbled, his face still planted on the ground, "but I was in a bit of a hurry. Loose ends…"

"Yeah, you said." She wiggled out from under a painfully placed knee. "I'm going to get up now," she advised. She had to slither out from under him, one appendage after another hitting the concrete floor with a thud as she got free.

She looked down at the lanky body lifeless on the floor. "Take as much time as you need, yeah? Don't mind me. I'll try to keep the excitement to a minimum." She turned back to the desk, less enraged yet more unnerved. And then she saw it.

On the top of the desk, minding its own business, lay her pen. She braced her arms against the chair and exhaled. She couldn't stop the few tears from streaming down her face. She heard the Doctor come to life in the middle of the pen search-and-rescue fiasco and sensed his height as he stood behind her.

"Looks like the excitement has come and gone here in number 46. Had to let housekeeping go, I see?" he joked as he tried to find a place to step. Unsuccessful, he remained behind her.

"So, umm, what was that, River?"

She was looking for a way to wipe her wet face without being obvious. "What was what?" She sniffed as softly as she could, thankful that he couldn't see the jumble of emotions on her face.

"Don't, River. I still feel you…"he said quietly.

"Oh, the kiss?" She tried to make light of it. "Nothing really. I guess I just got caught up in the moment. Winding down from the day." She tried to will the fresh tears from welling but failed miserably. "Just an innocent kiss. Don't fret over it, Sweetie."

"Innocent?" He walked closer to her, close enough to see her hair blow as he exhaled. "I'm sure I have marks on my back to prove otherwise."

He brushed the curls aside to place a kiss on her neck. She spun around quickly as he said, "Wait a minute. How'd you change clothes so fast?"

"What in the hell are you going on about!" She was so stunned by the intimacy of his touch that she had forgotten her secret mourning.

"Hey," he whispered. "River, why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

"You are, too."

"I am not crying."

"You most certainly are crying," he insisted. He started waving his long fingers about her face. "I can see it there…and there…and right there close to you ear….."

She hung her head so that her chin rested on her chest. "Please, Doctor. Just get back in the TARDIS and take Amy and Rory somewhere fantastical. They deserve a holiday." She stepped around him and returned her bed frame to its functioning position. "Just anywhere but here, please."

"Amy and Rory are on holiday – for over a week now. Remember? Married sex away from the Big Brother?" He helped her arrange her mattress back on the frame, while taking the opportunity to examine her head.

"Doctor…what….get your hands off my head!" She turned around and looked at him with riddled eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for swelling. I think you hit your head on impact. You may have a brain injury," he replied, reaching up and examining her eyes, pulling her eyelids up and down. He searched in his pocket for his screwdriver. "Brains are very serious business."

"If you shine that screwdriver in my face, I will arrange your legs to carry you backwards and your feet to face forward for the rest of your days in that awkward body of yours. Now, I've just about had enough."

"What were you talking about earlier? The kiss?" He interrupted.

River sidestepped him and began returning her belongings to some order.

"Your first," she could barely get the words out. Her eyes were cast downward and threatened once again to well up. "My last."

"Oh, River….." He answered too softly to hear, realizing his mistake. He walked over to her and encircled her in a comforting embrace. She buried her face on his shoulder and let the tears fall silently.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this works great with the music - At Last, sung by Etta James.

They stood quietly in her cell for quite some time. The Doctor - unaccustomed to the urge to comfort with touch and gentleness – and River – unaccustomed to needing comfort in any capacity. He had reluctantly explained the confusion.

River spoke first. "You are a terrible navigator."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I'll have you know that I am an excellent TARDIS captain. It just so happens that I have a rogue TARDIS. She bloody well goes where she wants," he grumbled into her hair. It still smelled delicious. How could hair smell delicious? And, why didn't it smell like battle and adrenaline and smoldering Silent flesh? Maybe he thought too much like a man.

A man. Is that what he was becoming? Parts of him definitely reacted as a man.

"Why would she want to come back here? She's better at getting you to where you need to be than you are." River's hushed voice made the hair on the back of his neck come alive, not to mention the light touch of her fingers fidgeting with his shirt button.

"Maybe I said it wrong…"

She looked up at him inquisitively. "Said what wrong?"

Her eyes were a brighter green from crying, and her lips red and puffy from nervous biting. A few curls fell across her forehead and covered her flushed cheeks. Other curls were tucked behind an ear and gave her an innocent appearance that threw him off-balance. She was absolutely the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

"Doctor?"

He exhaled a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. "Yes?"

"Said what wrong?"

"When?"

"To the TARDIS?" She had a confused grin on her face.

"Could you be more specific? Apparently, I make a habit of being wrong at the TARDIS." He couldn't even keep up with the conversation.

"Doctor, what did you say to her that brought you here?"

"Oh, yes, right. Umm…" He scratched his head and looked off to the side and back again. "Well, I think what I said was to follow the…uhhh….well, the upset crying woman…" He feared to look at her. This was River. She didn't cry – just ask her.

Her eyebrows turned inward as she thought quickly on his words. "The upset crying woman? Who had no name or time?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what time you're in?" He was getting flustered. "Besides, I was a little out-of-sorts, if you will."

She let out a low chuckle. "Oh, I remember well."

He cocked his head and crumpled his face, baffled. "You remember?"

She grinned. "Timey wimey…."

He nodded in understanding. "Wibbly wobbly…."

She rested her head on his shoulder once again. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Yeah, well, you…..should be." He could feel her breath on his neck, and words were escaping him. "I could have injured one of these legs I have when I soared over that railing. I prefer to have them both working together. That's what legs do. They, uh, help each other out." He was babbling. She had circled her arms around his waist and was faintly scratching circles on his back. He'd never really thought about how little his back had been touched. Marvelous things, women's hands. With nails that scratch in places his arms were not designed to reach. "You know, with the feet that go one in front of the other. They make a great team, legs and feet…"

"Sweetie, you're rambling," she said into his neck. She felt a sharp intake of breath when her lips grazed his skin as she spoke.

His comforting hug had broken down into two hands resting lightly on her lower back. He raised his head from her hair so that when he spoke, she could feel the moisture of his lips on her temple. "I'm just happy to have legs. These legs. They look fantastic with these arms."

"Umm, hmm."

"Yep, legs are so…leggy." His voice was almost inaudible.

At some point, they had begun to move slowly. He opened his eyes, afraid that he was actually fainting. But he discovered that they had begun to sway to the sound of their own breathing.

"Hey, look at me. I'm a dancing fool," he joked. She smiled against his neck. "You know you owe me the rest of that dance, Dr. Song."

"There's no music…"

Before River could finish, the TARDIS answered with an intro of stringed instruments. They both turned their heads to look at the blue box before looking back at each other, grinning with eyebrows raised.

"What you may not know, Archaeologist Song, is that I fly a jukebox disguised as a spaceship. It's a special edition. I had her pimped." The Doctor left a quick kiss on her nose.

"I'm impressed, Doctor." River leaned in as close as she could without touching her lips to his and said, "She has great taste."

"At last…..my love has come along…my lonely days are over….and life is like a song….."

He smiled and closed the gap, brushing her lips with his. He nibbled and nipped as they moved together slowly. She captured his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked it gently. It was all he could do to keep from moaning. After she released him, the Doctor licked at her top lip, and River opened her mouth to him. Their tongues danced splendidly together, the perfect mix of give and take. He could not imagine any reason under the stars that would justify River's lips leaving his.

Until she broke their kiss and trailed her lips along his jawline to his ear. There was a reason.

She nibbled lightly on his earlobe as she unbuttoned his shirt…again. The Doctor barely noticed River slide the shirt off his shoulder until he felt her hands glide down his bare arms. He caught her hands in his own and brought them up to rest behind his neck. He kissed her softly before turning his attention to her neck. He bit at her skin lightly and slid the strap of her tank off her shoulder, chasing it with kisses.

River arched her back to press into him, and he responded in kind, meeting her thrust with his own. Her arms slid from around her neck and removed her top in one fluid motion.

"At last….the skies above are blue….my heart was wrapped up in clovers….the night I looked at you…."

"Oh my…." The Doctor wasn't even aware that he'd spoken. He just stared at River, standing there in the most delicate piece of fabric he'd ever seen. How could something so thin and dainty serve any purpose but to drive a man insane? He traced the top of her bra with the fingers of both hands, still amazed that such a subtle and beautiful garment was hidden under such practical and boring things as jumpers and polo necks. "First order of business tomorrow is to paint the TARDIS this shade of pink."

She laughed a guttural sound and leaned into his ear. "It's a matching set."

When she came closer to whisper, her naked skin met his and nearly caused him to stop breathing. Did she say something about having two of them? "Is the other one pink too?"

This time her laugh was more playful. "No, honey..." She took his hands and placed them inside the waistband of her linen pants. He picked up on the meaning quickly as she placed kisses on his bare chest. Another reason. It was almost too much for him to consider. The same material was covering the all parts of River that were rapidly becoming his favorites. But before he could investigate the other half of the set, she was trailing kisses down his stomach, dragging her nails down his sides. The moments of muffling his groans had passed. He no longer had the strength to be subtle.

River drew lazy circles along his stomach muscles with her tongue. The salty taste of him made her muscles contract, and she shifted her weight for friction, causing her to groan. She ran her hands up the fronts of his legs, and let her thumbs barely graze him where she knew he needed it most. She unbuckled and unzipped and ran her hands around his waistband to tug his pants down in the back. As he stepped out of his trousers, River turned away from him and rose slowly, dragging her body up the length of his.

"I found a dream that I could speak to….a dream that I can call my own…I found a thrill to press my cheek to…a thrill that I have never known…"

When she had stood, he was amazed that she had somehow managed to work herself out of her own bottoms while working him from his. The view from the back proved that she was, in fact, wearing a matching set. However, he didn't have much time to appreciate the view before she pressed back into him, leaving him with the need to press forward.

His arms went around her middle, and he took a breast in each hand, rubbing each nipple lightly through her bra. Her head fell back onto his chest, and he leaned down to capture her mouth with his. As one hand trailed slowly down her stomach, the kiss became more urgent, and they both battled for dominance. When the Doctor's hand slid past the delicate fabric, River gave up all control to this man who held the root of her power in his hand. He instinctively slid one, and then two fingers, inside, and this motion pulled her harder against him.

He began to grind into her as she reached behind him and gripped his naked flesh. She bent her body forward to tease him a bit, and his fingers went deeper still. He continued probing deeper until she was very nearly on the edge of orgasm. They both moaned, and she straightened up to lean against him. He withdrew his fingers from her and turned her around to face him. He needed to see her eyes.

"You smile, you smile…oh, then the spell was cast…and here we are in heaven…for you are mine…at last."

He kissed her softly and slid his hands down her back to unfasten her bra, all the while walking her backwards to the bed.

"Sweetie, there aren't any linens."

He smiled into the kiss. "River, I don't plan on covering any part of your body with anything except every part of mine."

The strings faded as he laid her down for the first and the last time.


	7. Chapter 7

"Doctor!"

The Doctor turned his head slightly and peeked over one shoulder. It was dark in the room, and he was confident that Amy would walk by without a second glance. He heard her footstep as she investigated the nooks and crannies around the console. She was humming to herself. It was that song. His stomach lurched a bit. She was supposed to have already retired for the night. It never failed: whenever he needed to be alone, humans swarmed around him like tiny insects with tattoos and thumbs. The steps got closer and louder, as did the humming.

"Oy, Spaceman!" She yelled. He saw a flash of legs and ginger rush by and returned his attention to the desk. He wanted to feel guilty for hiding, but there were grander things for which guilt was necessary.

"There you are," Amy said as she stepped inside the door. "I know you heard me-" She cut off her thought. She looked quickly left and right, turned and looked out into the hall. She strained her neck left and then right again. She looked up and then right once more. And then she was gone.

The Doctor waited for it.

After enough time had passed for her to walk back to the console and return, he saw her stroll by again and heard, "…three…four….five…..fifty-seven…hmmm, fifty-eight." There she was again, all legs and bewilderment.

"Yeah, you've been adding on since we left, I see. I thoroughly investigated. This shouldn't be here." She said, matter-of-factly.

The Doctor slipped the loose bowtie from around his neck and began to wrap it clockwise and counterclockwise around one hand. "This has always been here, Amelia Pond."

"I'm quite right that it hasn't. The arcade has always been the 17th door on the left, now it's the 18th. I am well-versed in TARDIS floor plan. You know, after the sauna incident." She raised one eyebrow.

"It's only proper that you knock before entering a room."

"Yeah, well, now I count. And this is new." Amy plopped down in a chair opposite him.

The Doctor leaned forward in his chair, propped his elbows on his knees and continued to trifle with the bowtie. "Sometimes rooms exist in the TARDIS only when I need them."

"Why?"

"Wh…why? What do you mean 'why'?" He wanted to swat at her.

"What's the point? When you've got unlimited space, why hide a room? It's not like its sticking out to trip over," she reasoned.

"Why not hide it if it's not being used?" he countered. Buzz, buzz, buzz, little insect.

"What if I'm here with you, and I leave my banana on this desk. We walk out and a few minutes later I realize, 'Hey, I don't have my banana'. oh yeah, it's in this room. But you're in the loo. And by the time you come round again, my banana is all brown and disgusting. A perfectly good banana gone to waste because the TARDIS has cloaked a room." She took closer notice of her surroundings, but wasn't particularly impressed. "Now I want a banana."

The Doctor rubbed his face and looked up at the intruder. "Amy, did you want something?"

She excitedly turned back to face him, "Oh yeah! Well, Rory said it could wait, but I thought you could use some cheering up since you're about as much fun tonight as a crack in the wall. We got you a souvenir."

She reached in the pocket of her short dressing gown and pulled out a trinket. Amy stood it proudly on the desk and beamed from ear to ear. "Ha!"

"What is it? Is that a wee Silent?"

"Isn't it brilliant! It's a bobblehead! It's not a Silent, exactly, but it is an alien. Isn't it fantastic!" She danced a little gig in her chair to express her joy with herself.

"What does it do?"

"It's a bobblehead. It bobbles…" Amy thumped its head. It moved erratically. "Its head, you know...bobbles. It's a…uhhhh…bobblehead. Of an alien…" She looked a little less impressed with her genius as he stared blankly at it. "For the TARDIS cosole."

"Is that what humans think aliens look like? Green little torsos with clown feet, unusually long arms and great big unstable heads?" He looked at it dumbfounded and defensive. "I have sensationally proportioned arms and legs, I think. And this head was an excellent choice as well." He continued to stare at it while taking measure of the size of his own head. "Yes, this head is as near perfect as one could hope."

"Okay, it's rubbish." She leaned back in her chair, defeated, until something else caught her attention.

"Doctor?"

He flicked the alien's head and tried to mimic the movement until he got a bit dizzy. "Yes?"

"There's a window behind you." She stood up and walked over. "Is that space out there?"

He joined her and placed his hand on the thick pane. "It would appear so."

"There's a window in the TARDIS? Are there other windows in other hands-off rooms? Did you cut your lip"

"No. Never has been. Not even in this room." He took a last glance into the blinking darkness and returned to his seat, ignoring her last question. "It was here when I opened the door. But it wasn't here last time…"

"Did the TARDIS do it?" Amy scrutinized its every corner. "Do you think it would lift?"

"I'm positive the TARDIS did it, and I don't think it would be wise to try it out," he warned.

She lost interest after he killed the adventure of it and walked towards the door. She stopped short as she passed by the desk. "Doctor, is that what I think it is?"

"That, it is." His answers had hung heavy with questions ever since he picked them up hours before.

"When did you get it? And how?" She was afraid to get too close, so she continued towards the door a bit.

"Some time ago. The how's not important." He replied, giving up very little. "Rooms are cloaked for a reason, Mrs. Pond. Not only from you. Sometimes the TARDIS won't even let me in here."

"What makes the difference? Why is it here tonight? And where did that window come from and why?" All very valid questions, none of which could be satisfied with simple answers. So, he answered with silence. The Doctor spun slowly in his chair and watched the universe swoosh by them.

Amy understood that questions were answered in his own time and headed out the door, stopping only to ask, "Doctor, what happened while we were gone?"

The Doctor's only response was the low-pitched humming of a familiar tune.


	8. Chapter 8

The Doctor hovered over River's body, watching her breasts rise and fall with her quickening breaths. Her lips were slightly parted and her hair fanned the mattress. "Do you have any idea how incredible you look nearly naked?" He no longer felt as if he had any control over his body or his emotions.

A faint smile spread across her flushed face. "I'm sure not nearly as incredible as I would look completely naked." She rolled her body up to meet his, his hardness rubbing all the right places. He inhaled a hiss and resisted the urge to take her right then. She moved her hips in a slow circle against him. "Some of us do wear knickers to cover our naughty bits, Doctor."

He fought her circular teasing with heavy thrusts of his own. "I suppose if I had knickers like those I could be persuaded to give them a go. But who needs them, really? Unnecessary business, knickers…"

She ran her hands down the length of her body, stopping just short of the offending fabric. He was afraid to blink, anxious he'd miss where her hands were headed. She looked up at him slyly. "Well, then, maybe it's time you stop admiring their novelty and add them to the mess."

He sat up and gave them a tug over her hips and slid the lace slowly down her legs. As she freed her feet from them, she let her legs fall open just enough to accommodate the width of his body. The Doctor's hands made an agonizingly slow climb up the insides of her calves to her thighs, only to drag his short nails back down the length of her legs. He followed back up her thighs not with his fingers, but with kisses.

When he was close enough to feel the brush of curls against his cheek, he rose higher to place a kiss in the crease where her leg met her pelvis. His attentions were interrupted. "Well, what have we here?"

River could just make out the sound of his voice over the blood pounding in her groin. "What, Sweetie?"

"And to think I may never have known if I hadn't gotten you naked." His lips covered the small red tulip with a kiss. "Why a tulip?" He outlined the tattoo with the tip of his tongue.

She could speak almost any language a situation called for, yet she could not form words to answer him as he trailed his kisses closer and closer to the pounding. "River?"

"Ancient Earth symbolism. Irresistible love," she half whispered, half moaned.

"Mine, I hope," he teased as his tongue flicked across the small bundle of nerves at her core. His thumbs made small circular movements along her folds, causing them to open and close against each other, adding to the sensation.

"Doctor?" she pleaded.

"Yes, Dr. Song?" He sucked the swollen button into his mouth and teased it between his teeth. She bucked her hips and let out a whimper, reaching down to grab fistfuls of his hair.

"Please…..shut…up" she managed as he continued trailing his tongue downward and entering her. He reached up and entwined her fingers with his, pressing down on the mattress at her sides. He watched her face as he licked the inside of her. When she opened her eyes to meet his, he nearly lost what he had been holding back.

"River, when was the last time someone scratched your back?" He needed a moment to calm himself, or he was sure to have a teenager's first time.

"I don't remember. I guess the last time you asked," she simpered. She needed him in her more than she ever had. "No scratching, more everything else."

He sat up and rolled her hips to get her to turn over. "Come on. Humor an old lover, huh?"

She accommodated him and turned to lay on her stomach, folding her arms under her head.

"Holy…" The back of her was poetic. She had a knee bent out, and the curvature of her body deserved its own temple of worship. He straddled her and began tracing his nails up and down the expanse of her back. Down her sides, up her neck, across her shoulders. She spread her legs a little wider as she pressed her hips down into the mattress. No matter where he touched her, she felt in her core. His scratching and massaging went on for what seemed like hours.

Just when she thought she would have to beg for him, she felt his body slide up hers. He kissed the back of her neck, and she turned her head to find his lips. He met her kiss with desperation. Their need was nearly violent. He began to grind his hips into her, and she rose to meet each thrust. She bit his lip, and he could taste the blood in their kiss. "Now…" she demanded.

He didn't enter her as forcefully as instinct told him. It was slow and with shallow deliberate movements. He would retreat just before he reached the spot that was aching in River. She moaned and tried to meet his lunges. "Doctor…."

He lowered his hips so that he was completely inside her. He pulled back and thrust forward once, twice, and a third time. She gripped the bars of her headboard with force enough to bend them. He continued to roll his hips along her backside as her hips pushed back against his in perfect timing. He slid a hand under her to stroke her slowly. She closed her legs a bit making her tighter around him. His groan was almost a cry. "What are you doing to me, River?"

"I want to see you…" she gasped. "I want to look into your eyes when….." He pushed deep inside her and held himself there, making circular grinding motions against her. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck. "I can't hold it, River….it has to be now," he mumbled.

"Yes, you can…."

He inhaled deeply and paused his movements for several moments, breathing into the side of her neck. She waited patiently for him to lift himself from her. When he did begin to move, she took the initiative to force him upright and into a sitting position. She slinked towards him with a single mission, and he stopped her. "I definitely won't make it through that. I might not even make it through the thought of that…." He whined. She giggled and crawled into his lap.

"It's my turn to do some of the work," she whispered in his ear as she guided him into her and wrapped her legs around his waist. River began to move up and down with long, smooth motions. She rose high and dropped low, grinding herself against him. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, eliciting a groan from the nearly breathless woman. She began to move with a faster pace, and he reached around her, pulling her harder into him. "River, I can't…..it's coming….."

"Look at me, Doctor. " She was staring into his eyes with a fever and a love that he would never have imagined existed. He couldn't look away.

"I love you, River Song," he confessed as he neared his breaking point. She began to tighten around him, and she dug her nails into his back as she moved faster and faster.

"I love you….." She whispered his name as they rode the wave together. "Always remember. My Doctor."

They both collapsed into a pile of arms and legs, and she moaned through the remaining tremors. He propped up on an elbow and kissed her chin. "I could go through life never saving another planet if it meant I had all the opportunities in time and space to see that look on your face over and over and over…." He feathered kisses on her closed eyelids.

She laughed softly. "You'd eventually get tired of this body and pray that it would regenerate into something tighter."

"Any tighter and I think we might have caught fire!" He looked horrified at the thought.

She started to giggle, which turned into a fit of laughter. "My skin, you idiot. I was talking about tighter skin."

The shaking of this amused woman under him was rather pleasant and the laughter contagious. "I was wondering how it would feel for just my fella down there to regenerate."

This made her laugh harder, and they both had tears streaming down their faces before they calmed down. He ran a hand through her hair and gently covered her lips with his. She rubbed light strokes down his back as they kissed.

The Doctor rolled from atop her and pulled her across his chest as he stared at the ceiling. "What now?"

"Sleep…." She yawned softly and molded her body against his. "Oh, and Doctor? There is a day coming for you that will be most unpleasant, because somewhere in my past, I am patiently waiting for you to chase me. Just be patient and ride it out, okay? You've got plenty of time to get your story together. That's why I apologized earlier." Her breathing was much slower and her voice hard to hear.

"River….."

"Umm hum?"

"I love you." His voice caught in his throat when he realized it would be the last time she heard those words spoken by him.

"I know, Sweet…"

He lay there listening to her breathe for hours and thinking about what was to come for her. He was at the beginning of loving her, and she was at the end of him loving her. He couldn't think of a more heartbreaking realization.

River rolled off of him and into a ball on the other side of the bed. He carefully crawled around her and stepped to the floor. He couldn't bear the thought of looking into her eyes when she woke. She knew that it was their last time together, and her heart would be broken. He had no choice but to take the coward's way out. He had watched her body die once. He couldn't watch as her spirit die, as well. He opened and closed the TARDIS door quietly, and walked over to the console. Just this once, he took the brake off, and the TARDIS compassionately faded from River's cell without a sound. He buried thoughts of River under the secrets he had been carrying for weeks.

As the blue box spun across galaxies, he thought about the events of her past few days and tried to work it out in his head. He still couldn't figure out how an astronaut, the Silence and a little girl led to his death. See, he had warned them that games could not be played in his TARDIS. And private conversations should never be held under the console, unless you had a lookout for the steps above.


	9. Epilogue

"Doctor!"

The TARDIS needed a window. Why was it that he had this magnificent ship with innumerable rooms that could hold up under atmosphere re-entry, withstand hellish temperatures, fall from cliffs and survive attack without a scratch, yet there wasn't a window to be found? He could do anything he could possibly imagine in the TARDIS – except watch the stars and the moons twirl around his ship. The only time he really got a chance to see the universe lit up it all its grandeur was when he was trying to save it. And to take the time to stop to ponder or appreciate his surroundings in those moments could mean the end of them all.

So, why were there no windows? The Doctor had decided it was to remind him of his solitude as the last Time Lord. Regardless of the number of traveling companions he may collect throughout the galaxies, his world was just him and the TARDIS. Perhaps, if there was a window, his memories and experiences could escape into time and space and settle in the stars. There would be a little piece of him left behind somewhere that didn't actually involve saving the behind. He could rescue the universe time and time again as the Doctor, but it shouldn't be remembered that he was a being with a name and a story all his own. He was destined to travel time and space locked - no, sealed - in the soul of a spinning box. A soul with no windows.

"Hey, Alien Boy!"

He saw a flash of red hair outside the library door. His companion walked by without noticing the extra door, and he didn't call out to her. The Doctor sat behind a large dark wooden desk covered in books and random papers. He had his chin propped on folded hands as he rested his head on its surface. The organized mess appeared to be rather serious in nature. However, were one to take a closer inspection, one would see that the books were how-to-manuals. How-to-impress-your-friends-with-your-elementary-art-skills. How-to-cook-a-meal-that-won't-make-your-companion-choke-on-her-own-vomit. How-not-to-bore-everyone-around-you-with-usless-historical-drabble-when-the-drabble-is-chasing-you-with-a-flaming-tentacle-head.

However, one little book stood out among all the others. It had been read by only one and would be read by only one other, but he couldn't imagine that a more important collection of thoughts existed in the world. The Doctor had been staring at it for weeks. He'd carried on life as usual, fighting this and saving that. But as soon as the TARDIS got quiet, he could hear the little blue book vibrate with all the secrets of his universe. He knew that to open the book would be a violation of his own rules, and how could he impose rules on others if he was not willing to follow his own?

So, he periodically visited with the book. It had become a companion of sorts, in its own right. Except the book reminded him how truly alone in this world he was. He didn't know how, when, where or why his future was filled with the contents of the book. But he knew who. And he knew that the discovery of the how, when, where and why would be the greatest of all his adventures.


End file.
